5 Ghosts and a University Student
by IcarusForgotten
Summary: Tricked into living in a haunted house for a week, Mamori finds herself dealing with some interesting characters, as well as fulfilling her ever growing homework schedule. What horrors will she endure throughout her stay? And will she have the time and sanity to complete her homework assignments to maintain her perfect university grade point?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello0! I bring good tidings from the lands of academia! As gifts, I bear sleepless nights and pounds upon pounds of research homework – as well as jugs of coffee, which I've decided to stop drinking. It just makes me feel bloody horrible. Inside and out. But regardless of my own personal conflicts, I also come bearing the gift of a story. This be-eth the first chapter to what I hope I will be able to finish within 2-3 installments. As per usual, please take pity and mercy on my continuous, recurrent and never-ending trips to the forsaken land of academia – I still search daily and nightly for the hidden treasures; dost thou not know that it taketh decades to breach? Aye, I'm afraid it doth. **

**LOL, yeah, I'm busy and headed towards premature senility; oh well, enjoy!**

"Is that supposed to be a challenge, Hiruma-_kun_?"

"It can be whatever you want, but I believe you know very well what I want, fucking manager."

As with every morning, Hiruma and Mamori had begun their day with quarrels, threats and wagers. What happened to be different about this morning was that Mamori had gotten so fed up with listening to his childish idiocies about ghost stories, ands scaring the whits out of poor Sena, who had very little to begin with. Her rage and exasperation had crossed a border like never before: she was taking on a dare from Hiruma. And not just any dare to be precise; oh no, this was a dare that threatened the very sanity and well-being the manager needed to be made capable of confronting her worst adversaries: her university exams.

You see, Hiruma is one who knows just how to provoke the most unprovokable. He hit Mamori in such a sensitive spot, that he just _knew_ she would be unable to back down. After terrorizing his friends with ghost stories and horrendously theatrical taunts, Hiruma was able to harvest from Mamori the most primal of all womanly virtues: the need to defend the weakest of her flock. As per usual, she had thoughtlessly dived into Sena's aid, protesting vigorously, and unthinkingly falling right into the brunt of Hiruma's master plan. To set the minds of her frightened team mates at ease, she had blindly walked into the very mine field that had been instated by the devil quarterback himself, and detonated one hell of a blast. She had agreed to spend a week in a haunted house.

Now, the general prospect of a haunted house does not sound too terrifying, especially not to one Anezaki Mamori. Because ghosts didn't exist. She knew it, Hiruma knew it, and every bloody person on this planet who had an ounce of logic in them knew it very well. However, that being said, Mamori still had genuine worry coursing through her veins. The reason? This was a haunted house chosen and, most possibly designed, but Hiruma. The initial conflict did not lay in the fact that she would be tormented by Hiruma for the entirety of a week via shabby costumes and movie effects in a possibly shabbier shack. Oh no, that would be no problem at all. She had made herself immune to horror masks and theatrical binges of terror by having to face the wrath of one Hiruma Youichhi on a daily basis. What had her worrying is the following:

The week after her stay at Hotel Hiruma (she so cleverly satirized it) she has due a term paper, lab report, lab exam, three course exams, class quiz, in-class essay and a class presentation. Exactly in that order. And her study time will be compromised by the childish antics of none other than Hiruma. That was the true horror hidden within this adventure. For to Mamori, nothing was more important than maintaining and A+ average for her University studies (which is precisely why she had avoided any art courses for her electives – she didn't need to be dragged down by such lowly grades as Bs).

All in all, it was going to be a troublesome week for Mamori. After the tiring hours of American Football practices, rather than going home to a nice, quiet work desk, she would go to a haunted shack of Hiruma's choosing (deprived of the luxury of having the independence for establishing her own haunted house!) and muster as much patience as she possibly could to survive through that week.

This was going to be a nightmare.

**And yes, Mamori's homework schedule (to lightly put it) somewhat parallels mine. Hmmm . . . I wonder why? Could it be that I'm a self-centered egotist? Nah, that's impossible! :P**

**R & R please! :):) **


	2. Chapter 2

**So . . . . how many months has it been? Too long, I know. Studies always manage to get in the way, even during the summer. Sigh, tis a never ending quest for knowledge that always seems to lead me to the perilous dimensions of the land of academia, where adventures are dangerous, but the promised bounty of virtuous success is endless, and forever inviting. **

**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! :)**

* * *

She took one look at it, and dropped her luggage to vigorously rub her eyes, in case her focus was somewhat skewed. It wasn't.

"Hiruma-kun . . . is this _real_?"

Standing before Mamori, out in the middle of nowhere, with a surreal dignity that raged stronger than the fierce wind she and Hiruma were withstanding, was the loveliest, most distinguished-looking mansion she had ever seen. With unfaltering white-painted walls and striking deep blue trim teasing the windowsills and jutting extremities, not to mention the crisp lawn, rich with green grass and blue violets, inviting the eyes to wander but the body to succumb to the intimidating aura, Mamori's heart melted at the prospect of simply _residing_ in such a tranquil _heaven_ as this for an _entire week_ without the constant bantering of her American Football boys and the unpredictability of Hiruma.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she had almost forgotten her reason for being there.

"Quit drooling over that damned house, fucking manager."

Almost.

"Get your bags in there on your own, fucking lazy ass. My job here is long done."

But not quite.

"You could be a tad bit nicer, Hiruma-_kun_," she emphasized the honorific with a sneer.

"Keh, and you could lay off those cream puffs, but you don't."

Her hands bunched into fists as her face grew three shades brighter - so quickly that steam burst from her ears. She marched right up to the amused quarterback and firmly jabbed him square in the chest with her finger, leaning over her toes and pushing her face up closer to that infamous devilish grin.

"You listen here mister I'm-too-much-of-a-big-shot-to-show-some-human-decency-every-once-in-a-while! I have a week's worth of luggage sitting here two football field lengths away from the doorway of the house _you_ have tricked me into staying in. I _expect_ some help in getting there in a timely fashion, _especially_ considering that it will be dark in less than an hour." She made sure to emphasize each point clearly with a poke.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to his chest, leaned his face in towards hers, eyes intense and looming into her surprised gaze. They sparkled, she noticed.

"Well, you'd better hurry along then, before it gets dark and those monsters get tired of waiting inside and come after you out here. With no brooms to hide behind, and no phone service to call for help – that's tough luck, huh?" Each word was spoken in a whisper, his breath crawling over her face and making her spine quiver, her heart stutter. He had never been this close to her before.

She jerked her hand out of his hold, standing her ground, stubbornly refusing to shy away from his proximity. "Then perhaps _they_ shall be kind enough to lend some assistance!"

Hiruma cackled at this. "Fucking manager," he said while pulling out his guns, always seemingly from nowhere, "they _know_ that if they disobey my orders and do anything stupid like _help_ you, or fall _victim_ to your _stubborn whim_, they'll have to answer to _me_, and you and I both know the _un_pleasantness of such a situation!" he fired his guns, scaring away the birds from the trees.

"So," said Mamori slowly, "you even have monsters fearing your presence. Typical," she sighed, and after a moment of thought added: "you know this just proves my point even further that there are no such things as monsters, or ghosts, or any other ridiculous childish fantasies. Because if there were," she cautiously stepped forward, face angled upward, wrist cocked on her hip, "then even you would have something to fear. I don't believe for a second that you could manipulate the underworld, no matter _how_ intimidating you are in _this_ world."

He propped his gun on her shoulder, the heavy machine making a clanking sound as its weight came to rest upon her. His other hand was stroking his chin in mock thoughtfulness, gun hanging from his thumb, eyes squinted and sliding down their corners to pierce her with a penetrating glint. Suddenly, he jerked her forward and leaned in close, devilish grin less than inches from her surprised gaze.

"If that's the case," he said, "then why is it that you're stalling?"

"W-what are you talking about? I'm not stalling anything Hiruma-kun! You're the one refusing to help me with my luggage and arguing your immature antics at the expense of my studying schedule." With that she turned on her heel and marched up to the house, leaving her bags resting at Hiruma's feet.

"Well, are you going to help me or not?" she demanded.

"Say please." Hiruma grinned, dropping his guns and clasping his hands behind his head, rocking gently on his feet as he tried his best to suppress a laugh at her hostile expression.

"_Please_ Hiruma-kun, won't you help me with my luggage?" she whispered, eyes suddenly downcast and lips trembling, though it must have been from the chilly wind, she reasoned.

He quickly leaned forward, hand cupping his ear, leaning as close to her as was physically possible. "Hmm? What's that? I couldn't hear you." His grin widened.

She mumbled something about unbelievable jerks and picked the bags up herself, making her way up the long path to the mansion.

"Have it your way, cream puff, just don't call me with all those tears when you get eaten alive." And with that he strolled back to his car, leaving an angry Mamori trembling with her bags.

"That doesn't even make any sense – how can I _possibly_ call you if I'm _dead?_!"

He got into his car, honked his horn at her twice, and drove off, coating Mamori in a cloud of dust.

Great.

She picked up her bags once more, upset at the fact that she could only carry two at a time and would have to make a few more trips there and back, and strode with her most determined stride, plotting ways of dealing with the devil quarterback when she got home.

Indeed, 'twas great.

She could just go inside the house and call for a taxi to take her home, but the problems inherent in that were one, she was an honest girl, and once she said she'd do something, she stuck to her word and fulfilled her obligations; and two, knowing Hiruma, he would have disconnected all the phones, all the methods of communication with the outside world for that matter, so as to ensure that Mamori would have no _choice_ but to fulfill her word. And walking home was just plain out of the option. Despite the fact that her photographic memory would provide her with the ability to remember every sharp corner turned and dark bridge traversed, the distance was nothing less than intimidating, and Mamori had her health to consider, after all.

Hah, her health.

There wouldn't be much left of it after this week, she expected, what with all the cleaning she'd have to do to place her belongings down anywhere at all. She'd be surprised if she'd get out of there by the end of the week with nothing more than a trite allergic reaction to the grime that Hiruma was accustomed to living in, and of course the fatigue she'd endure from her expected sleepless nights of studying while trying to ignore Hiruma's distractions.

No, she seared in her mind, there was nothing she wasn't able to handle. Hiruma or not, she had goals to accomplish, and a scholarship grade point to maintain.

And if he so much as dropped her GPA by a tenth of a fraction . . . then there would really be something to fear.

_Oh yes_, she thought darkly, _it's on_.

* * *

"Hello . . . ?"

Admittedly, she did feel quite silly calling out into the house after convincing herself that it was empty.

But, the back of her mind reminded her, with Hiruma, one has to always expect the unexpected.

She checked both her left and right, and peered as far as she could up the dusty stairwell. The shadows made it hard to really see anything.

With a shrug, she stepped her foot in, and a chill went up her spine as the floor board beneath her creaked.

Eerie didn't even begin to describe it.

But, chin raised high, elbows thrust out as she carried her bags higher to her chest than usual, she took several more steps into the hazy parlour. Mamori buried her face in her armpit to hide her nose from the awful stench that was emanating throughout the room. She hoped it wasn't prominent within the entirely of the building, and was thankful that she thought ahead enough to bring along scented cleaning supplies.

A movement in the far left corner caught her eye. Mamori swung her head violently over, dropping her bags and gracelessly tripping over them as she took a hesitant step backwards. She landed on her rear, and caught the sight of a strange yellow mist drifting through the air, interlacing its being with the stains on the ceiling, and then disappearing all together as a dull orange light flickered to life.

Well, now was a good a time as any to return for her other bags, since fresh air was clearly what she needed to regain sanity.

She quickly rose from her toppled position, dusted off her thighs, and then heard a booming collapse behind her.

Eyes wide, Mamori spun on her heel. The door had been slammed shut.

She shook her head, the orange light still flickering above her, erupting in seizure-inducing rhythms with various hues that made the shadows appear to dance on the walls.

_It was the wind_, she concluded. _The wind closed the door, and this is an old house, so the electrical wiring has clearly seen better days. And everything else is my imagination flying because that's what Hiruma wants! He conditioned me to react in such a way. _

With fresh anger, Mamori ran to the door to retrieve the remainder of her bags, determined to clean up this disgusting mess of a house with her cleaning supplies, and possibly fix the old wiring with her tools. She was no electrician, but she too knew a thing or two about handy work; after all, this was Anezaki Mamori, genius extraordinaire, and class A problem solver. Logic was on her side, so she had absolutely nothing to fear.

Except the door wouldn't open. And who the hell locks a door from the inside?

Unless . . .

No! She was _not_ going down that road. This was just an elaborate prank staged by Hiruma, and it was exactly how he wanted her to react.

And all it had managed to do was frustrate her beyond belief, because she had her homework and assignments for the week waiting in those bags, and earlier today, the forecast had predicted rain.

And the door –

She fumbled around with the lock and handle.

- did not –

She went back to her bags, rummaging quietly for something.

- wish –

A rare, dark smile crept onto her lips.

- to –

Putting her toolkit aside, she kicked at the door and it fell –

"Open."

She was nothing if not resourceful.

* * *

Thinking back, it had been Hiruma of all people who had given her the toolkit in the first place. It was Christmas day, and Mamori was cleaning the clubhouse from the party that had taken place the evening before. Because she felt herself to be the only responsible one of the group, she made sure to stay 'till the end, chaperoning the careless boys, making sure no one bullied Sena, keeping an eye out for any alcohol that was smuggled in by the Huh-Huh brothers, cleaning Sena up after the punch bowl was placed over his head like a hat, keeping a watchful eye out for Monta's hands, picking Sena off the ground whenever he tripped, and of course, battling her position against Hiruma's It was a long night, and as Mamori was too tired to make it home to her bed, she simply called her mother, and let her know that she would be spending the night at the clubhouse. And when she sensed her mother's worried tone, Mamori reassured her that Cerberus would be there to protect her. And since Mamori was always known to be a trusting, responsible girl, she was of course granted permission to spend the night.

And that's what she did.

The next morning, like every morning, Mamori awoke with the sun.

And she couldn't believe her eyes.

How could she possibly have gone to sleep last night with _such_ a big mess around her? Yes, it was a big party, and yes, it was a bit dark for her to see, and she was tired to the bones, but come on!

So the second Mamori got up, right after using the washroom that is, she started cleaning. And as it was early, and most of the team would be spending Christmas day with their families, Mamori felt no particular rush to get the chores done.

She swept the floor, filled the trash cans with spilled food and confetti, and washed some of the jerseys that were used as napkins. And just as noon was approaching, with nearly everything spic and span, Mamori heard the closing of a door.

She stepped out into the strategy room, and saw a small, red package on the table. There was no wrapping paper, no note. It was just a red, leather case, adorned with a simple silver button latch. Mamori unlatched the case to find a set of tools. Just ordinary tools, like the hammer and wrench variety.

And memories began to flood her brain. So many times had Hiruma teased her about her borrowing equipment from the carpentry class whenever something in the clubhouse needed fixing. He even went as far as to break things on purpose just to see her run for them, because he knew that, with her nature, she could never resist fixing anything broken.

Mamori held the case to her chest and smiled.

Because it wasn't the tools that had made her happy.

It was who had left them.

Weeks later, when she thanked Hiruma for the gift, he denied knowing what she was talking about. And even though she got the hint and left the subject alone, from the corner of her eye she could see a faint smile on his face before he went off to bark more orders at their team, with more enthusiasm than usual.

* * *

She reached the place where her bags were supposed to be and stopped.

They were gone.

And it had started to rain.

Cursing her luck at packing her umbrella with the luggage rather than carrying it with her, she ran back to the house, stepping carefully over the door that now lay broken on the floor.

A dirty mat, that she was sure had not been placed there before, lay just on the other side of the threshold, and scrawled onto it with what looked like fresh red paint, were the words "welcome".

This was not going to be an easy week.

* * *

**Hooray, another chapter complete. **

**A huge HUGE ****THANK YOU**** goes out to Unbi for being my beta for this chapter. Love love LOVE you dear, you are fantabulous! :) 3**

**Hope you guys liked it. And I'm so excited to start writing the next chapter. **

**What will Mamori find in the house? Will it be Hiruma? One of his poor blackmailed victims? Or could it be an actual monster?**

**Stay tuned to find out! XD**


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